WORSHIP LIFTS OUR EYES TO ADORE THE CREATOR. IN WORSHIP we seek the presence of God. In his presence there is perfect peace. As such, worship is not just a momentary impulse or a feel-good expression of gratitude for a happy day. It is more. It is the architecture of life: the constant reminder that we are enjoying the favor of God. When fears threaten to overwhelm us, worship reminds us of this favor. Our callings make no sense outside of worship, because worship acknowledges that calling as coming from, inspired by, and sustained by God himself. We buy in to a plan bigger than our own. His purposes are “for welfare and not for evil”; his plans give us “a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11 ESV). Therefore, the search for our callings needs to take place within the search for intimacy with God. It is only from a relational perspective that we will be able to discern his plans for our lives.
Of all the rituals and traditions of the Christian faith, singing songs of worship to God can seem most peculiar. Can it really happen in the real world? It feels so surreal. I was talking to a friend of mine some time ago who simply didn’t understand worship. “Is it just about singing or is there more? Does worship have any relevance to my everyday life? Why are these songs so important to God? Does God somehow need the constant praise and affirmation?”
The answer, of course, is no. God does not need our worship or praise. He is complete in and of himself—he has no needs or requirements. And yet worship forms an integral part of our faith. Many of the major figures in the Bible sang songs of praise not only in times of victory but also in the valleys of despair. Worship is for all seasons of life. The book of Psalms is full of songs of worship. Paul wrote to the early church of the importance of singing “psalms and hymns and spiritual songs . . . to the Lord” (Ephesians 5:19 ESV). The book of Revelation speaks of four creatures who worship God day after day and night after night (Revelation 4:8), and it looks forward to a time when all creatures in heaven and on earth will praise the Lamb (Revelation 5:13).
Clearly, we are called to worship God. But why does it matter if we give praise and glory to God? And what does worship have to do with our wider callings to engage with the world?
It’s important to point out that worship is not confined to music. After all, we can’t go around singing songs all day unless we are a little unstable. Rather, worship is a broad term describing any display of surrender, praise, and submission to the name who is above all other names, Jesus Christ.
Far from being limited to singing songs on a Sunday, worship is the lifting of all that we are to God—in song, but also in prayer, in the natural world, in meditation, at work, in creativity, and with humble and reverent adoration. Worship should be apparent at all times, not just at church on Sundays. The supreme objective of our worship is to be drawn into the presence of the living God. We become parched and thirsty during our ordinary routines. We worship God to refresh ourselves and, above all, to encounter him.
I’ve said regularly that my workstation is my worship station. Our careers should praise and glorify God. It means working well at our callings, having moments of quiet prayer and reflection throughout the day. Some might put on headphones and listen to a worship album while they work. But worship is also expressed through outward acts of love. Perhaps worshipping at work means giving glory to God through acts of service, even if it’s just washing up everyone else’s mugs in the office kitchen in addition to doing our jobs to the best of our God-given abilities. It means performing our day-to-day work with honesty and integrity, not to gain the praise of our superiors, but to honor God in everything we do. Such offerings are a powerful way of worshipping, and they help shape our hearts to be more like that of Christ. In worship we acknowledge that he is sovereign over every part of our lives; we take time to worship to affirm our complete dependence on him. Through worship we lay down even our callings to ensure that we remain submissive to his will.
Worship can be done collectively, but it can also be done alone. We experience a great sense of celebration when singing with like-minded people. Joining with other Christians at work, as a small worshipping community within the workplace, can be powerful and rewarding.
But times alone—drawing close to God in silence, in meditation, or through reading scriptures or biblical commentaries—are also powerful.
So we should not allow worship to be trapped in the guitar case of contemporary music. It has a far wider, richer source that resonates, deep unto deep (Psalm 42:7), into every aspect of our lives, in different ways to different people.
I don’t want to play down the importance of worship expressed through song. It is an incredibly important way of praising God and has been done by Christians across the world for two millennia. It remains central to Christian communities’ corporate expression of love, adoration, and thankfulness to their Creator and Redeemer.
Sung worship has been particularly important for me throughout my Christian life. I frequently have a line from a song running through my head during the day. Tim Hughes’s “The Cross Stands” is a reminder of the victory of Christ, and Matt Redman’s “Through It All” ministers to me when the stress of life hits really hard. Alongside bands like Hillsong United, Bethel, and Soul Survivor, these worship leaders have shaped a generation’s attitude to worship.
I am often asked why modern worship has had such a profound effect on young people globally. There are, of course, many reasons, but I am always particularly struck by the way in which the lyrics of many contemporary worship songs reach untapped longings in the younger generation’s hearts, connecting with the zeitgeist of the age in a profound way. The words capture their yearnings for something deeper. This generation that has grown up with quick fixes, with knowledge just a Google search away, with relationships that are rarely more than skin deep. So many are searching for depth—something that gives a sense of purpose and belonging. And this is what worship is able to offer. It helps put into words and music something we might otherwise struggle to express.
When we recognize who God is and what he has done for us, it is only natural to respond in praise and adoration. This is the God who created the heavens and the earth, who flung stars into space, and yet who loves us, cares for us, and has redeemed us with the death of Jesus on the cross. He is the one who calls us into his service.
In his grace God has given us a way of responding to his love and majesty through worship. Worship enables us to give something back to God. Not something he needs, not something that could ever do justice to his majesty and glory, but something that he accepts, as a loving father might accept the colorful scribbling of a child. If God refused our worship, then relationship with him would be impossible. True relationship must be two-sided, not one-way.
When my children were growing up, they listened to story tapes (those were the days!). In one of them, a character would express great joy by saying that something was “absolutely wonderfully marvelous.” For no particular reason, it stuck, as silly phrases often do, and is now a recurrent refrain in the family whenever something is amazing and cannot adequately be described in words.
The purpose of worship is to marvel at the amazing nature of God and his goodness. As Psalm 8:1 puts it:
LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory
in the heavens.
Today, we marvel too little. Standing awestruck in the presence of God is a rare, precious, life-giving experience. Many of us find his presence through a sense of the wonder at the natural world, whether standing at the top of a mountain, experiencing the power of a thunderstorm, or simply admiring the color of lavender or the fragility of a butterfly’s wings. But in our busy, stressed lives, there is simply not enough time to marvel, to be astonished by and enjoy the presence of God, to be in his presence for no other reason than that we long to be there waiting on him.
And the aliveness of his presence is true not just on Sundays. God is not contained within the walls of church or the worship set. His presence goes with us and is active, even though we might feel it less at work. We need to find a way to marvel at his goodness both in the Sunday service and also while we are trying, often with difficulty, to align our wills with his desires.
Worship isn’t, however, only for the good times; it is for the bad times as well. It is for all times. David knew how to praise God during all seasons: when depressed (Psalm 42), when rejoicing (Psalm 32), when needing guidance (Psalm 25). And it is true that God is enthroned on the praises of his people (Psalm 22:3) or “leaning back on the cushions of Israel’s praise” as The Message puts it.
Once I was truly overwhelmed by the stress of getting a piece of work done. I remember thinking I needed to refocus and reestablish priorities. I knew I could not do it alone, and I also knew that the key to unlocking the situation lay in worship. I made a choice to recognize God’s goodness and power rather than to slip into unhelpful default responses. I telephoned a friend who is a worship leader, and we agreed to meet that evening. He started playing his guitar and pouring out his songs of worship. I simply allowed the presence of God to grow in intensity. The music surrounded us, as if the angels of the Lord were there too. A distinctive presence of the Spirit of God hovered over us. As time went on, a change came over me, and I sensed the deep quietening of the Spirit and the beginnings of the peace that passes all understanding. After an hour or so of sung worship—gentle, engaging, and intentional—I began to receive the confidence that I needed to complete what I had been called to do. And, feeling I was transformed through worship, I was able—even within a deeply stressful situation—to marvel at God’s power and goodness and love for me.
In The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge painted a vivid picture of what happens when we praise God. The albatross that has been following the ship has been shot dead, and the mariner is now under an unbreakable curse. Parched and alone, in the middle of a dead sea, he tries to pray to God for salvation but cannot muster the strength. Then he notices the beauty of the ocean and the creatures around his ship, and from somewhere deep within him, he starts to praise God for the beauty of creation.
O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gush’d from my heart,
And I bless’d them unaware . . .
The selfsame moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.1
Suddenly, the curse is broken. The rains come and the winds blow, and he is finally able to make for land. But it was only when he lifted his eyes to God that the dramatic change occurred. It was only when he stopped thinking about his own situation that he was able to transcend it.
Praise forces us to lift our heads, to look up. We don’t praise with our heads down. It is a powerful offensive weapon. When the armies of Moab and Ammon marched against King Jehoshaphat and Judah, the king responded by placing worshippers at the front of his army. They led the march crying out, “Give thanks to the LORD, for his love endures forever” (2 Chronicles 20:21). As they transcended their immediate peril, God protected Judah without them ever having to draw a sword. With their eyes fixed on the glory of God, and their hearts giving praise to his name, God defended them from the threat of invasion.
Revelation 18 offers a chilling warning about a world that refuses to acknowledge God. Babylon is a metaphor for commercial life lived without God and directed toward only unjust gain: “The fruit you longed for is gone from you. All your luxury and splendor have vanished, never to be recovered” (v. 14). Worship is nonexistent: “The music of harpists and musicians, pipers and trumpeters, will never be heard in you again” (v. 22). Indeed, “in one hour [Babylon] has been brought to ruin!” (v. 19). Neither trade nor worship is found in this barren place: “The light of a lamp will never shine in you again” (v. 23).
The cries of jubilation in heaven at the fall of Babylon are deafening: “Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God, for true and just are his judgments” (Revelation 19:1–2).
Many run after luxuries and splendor, of course. They can be so tempting. They draw us in and tie us up. They cancel worship. They pervert our callings. Yet worship unites us, rebalances us, and reminds us to tie ourselves first to God—to seek first his kingdom. Worship emphasizes that we are not made for this life only—but for eternity. Worship is our daily affirmation of our divine aspirations. And it can be a daily conflagration of idols that threaten to destroy us: a bonfire of the vanities, experienced not in some future judgment but today.
My life would become a desert if it were not refreshed in worship by the living waters of his Spirit. To give glory and honor to God each day in all that I am called to do is the supreme calling on my life. It is what I wholeheartedly desire, above all other things—to offer myself as “a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God.” This, according to Paul, is “true and proper worship” (Romans 12:1).
The primary purpose of worship is to glorify and honor God on account of who he is and as a response to the untold riches of his mercy. But that is not its only effect. Worship looks to God, but it has a profound effect on us, strengthening and confirming our particular callings.
Psalm 95 gives us great perspective on the central importance of worship:
Come, let us bow down in worship,
let us kneel before the LORD our Maker;
for he is our God
and we are the people of his pasture,
the flock under his care. (vv. 6–7)
In this statement of worship, the psalmist is reminded of his own place in the grand scheme of creation. This God we worship is our God. We are under his care and his guidance. Worship is therefore a reminder of our priorities, of our callings, and of our place in the created order. One of the effects of engaging in worship is to realign ourselves with the one who is the source of life and light.
It is a constant struggle to have our wills bent to his. Our protective human shells need to be penetrated by the breaking in of God’s presence to bring about a reordering of our self-driven lives. This reorientation is vital to keep our callings on the rails. Worship is the way we keep open and fresh in our relationships with God. It is a simple truth: shape or be shaped. Let worship shape your life—or be shaped by the world.
The act of singing often makes us vulnerable and more ready to connect to God with our emotions, in the same way that Shakespeare turned to poetry when writing about love and grief but returned to prose when dealing with the everyday.
Recently, I was speaking to a men’s group on the importance of daily worship. It is a myth that men don’t enjoy worshipping together, that it is too emotional. I have seen the effects of worship on the most hardened of men. There is within all of us a craving for intimacy as we come before God.
Before iron ore can be shaped, it must be made malleable through the intense heat of a smelting furnace. We need to be prepared to be bent into shape during worship, but before we are bent into shape, we must be willing to be bent out of shape. The ore is totally out of shape when being prepared in the smelting furnace to be poured out. And so for us, in the fire of worship, we allow the Holy Spirit to work within us to change our hardened hearts and minds.
There is, therefore, something quite robust about the call to worship. It is not an insipid lulling of the emotions by pretty songs; it is at times fiercely uncomfortable. Worship is not just soothing background mood music; it is awe-inspiring, provocative, and urgent, challenging us out of our comfort zones to reflect, realize, and realign our callings.
There is a moment of spiritual maturity when we realize that God is able to speak to us and shape us in all times of worship—whether we are singing together at a Christian gathering, listening to songs on our own, walking along savoring the presence of God in prayer, or working at our jobs.
As we become vulnerable to God in worship, we become malleable to him—open to the work of his transformative power. This is so important if we are to align our priorities and desires with his.
The Bible makes it clear that worship is not uncontested by other “gods.” We have a choice to worship the God revealed to us in the Bible or the other gods of money, power, sex, and success. Worship is not neutral territory. There is a competition for our hearts and minds. This is why David affirmed that he would praise God above all other gods: “For you, LORD, are the Most High over all the earth; you are exalted far above all gods” (Psalm 97:9). There is a direct calling to us to choose which god we will worship. The idols of today might not be made of wood or carved images, but they have just as powerful a pull on us.
Satan loves to see us confuse our priorities. He loves to see us chase after other idols. What God underwrites, the devil undermines. That’s his way in the world. We are told to be vigilant, as the devil’s efforts to unsettle our trust in God are compared to that of a lion going about trying to devour his prey: “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8).
Anyone who has seen a lion going after prey in the wilds of Africa will recognize the dramatic power of this image. I remember watching a lion move within inches of our tent while on safari in Africa. He was merely walking by, not seeking to attack us, but that was scary enough. The deep, resonant growling made us hold our breaths. One false move or sound and we would be mauled. Only God and my dry cleaner know how scared I was!
A lion in full chase is as chilling and brutal a sight as one could ever hope to see. We therefore remain on guard against the devil, as anyone on safari in Africa would be if they were walking in an area where there were clear lion tracks. I assure you that your eyes and ears are open and alert to any noise.
The act of worship, therefore, is a constant reminder of who holds the call on our lives, our time, our resources, and our energy. When we choose to worship God, we are recognizing the God to whom we bow down. No other god has a claim on us. That is what David is celebrating in Psalm 95.
It is worth remembering that however powerful a lion can be, he can be driven away when a herd of buffalo come together to see him off. He can pick them off individually, but collectively they drive him away. There is power in the name of Jesus and even greater power when we come together to thwart the devil’s attacks. When we join in collective worship, we are to protect not only our own hearts but also those of our brothers and sisters in Christ.
When the devil set about undermining Adam and Eve, he did so with a crafty use of the question “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” (Genesis 3:1). Of course, it was the opposite of what God had commanded: “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die” (Genesis 2:16–17). The devil will always try to make our freedom seem like bondage. And he does so with a condescending tone of voice. This is his tactic—not a full-frontal assault but a slithering alongside, trying to cast doubt on God’s way in our lives. You might hear the words in your mind, Are you really up to it? Or, Was your father not right when he said you were no good at anything? We need to beware his cunning and resist his efforts to twist God’s Word.
When we worship, we keep sight of the fact that “the one who is in [us] is greater than the one who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). Christ has the victory, and we need to constantly remember this is not a war between two equal forces, although at times it might appear to be so. The war has been won, but the struggles and the skirmishes to prevent us from fulfilling our callings will continue until the final day. Worship gives us the energy to hold tight to God and to our callings.
When we worship, we engage in warfare. We declare the will of God: “your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). And we have the victory! The powers of evil will not overcome us or deflect us from his purposes. The whole of the book of Acts was written with one overriding theme: the will of God cannot be thwarted by the powers of evil. In worship, we are anointed by the Spirit of God to combat every effort to unsettle us from fulfilling that call of God in our lives.
Let us be ready and prepared to stand firm:
Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (Ephesians 6:13–17)
Worship, then, equips us for the battle ahead. It is a time of preparation and training. I have a friend who was in the Special Air Service, the front line of covert military operations. An essential part of his training was the repeated command, “Check your exit.” This must become an unconscious habit: even when parking a car, one makes sure that it’s pointing the right way to get out. Exit from danger matters. And worship is the best way I know to get away from the dangers of distraction, fear, and repeated sins.
Worship is the child’s longing to be with the Father, who pours out love, encouragement, and guidance. It is the child’s pleasure in spending time with a devoted parent, receiving boundless support and kindness. No calling can be sustained without the constant encouragement and affirmation that comes from God through worship.
Realignment is not the only effect of worship. We are shaped, but we are also equipped. Although it is an outpouring of our praise to God, worship becomes a time when we receive from God. Worship opens us to intimate interaction with him. As we interact, so we receive the empowering and life-transforming presence of the Holy Spirit.
When we receive the presence of God, we become the presence of God in the world—wherever we are called to be. There is something deeply alluring about the presence of Christ. It changes the atmosphere. Worship gives us the “aroma of Christ” (2 Corinthians 2:15)—and others pick it up. But it doesn’t just attract others; it changes us.
Worship is the way in which I remove myself as the center of the universe and return this incarnate, reconciling God to that place. We will always struggle to allow the center of gravity to shift from ourselves to God. That is what happened at the fall: we tried to make ourselves into gods. But now, in Christ and by his Spirit, God enables us to love him and to give our lives in service for others.
Paul set out a key calling to all Christians—to become a new creation: “The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17 ESV). And part of this newness is a call to be reconcilers of the world to God, just as Christ reconciled the world through himself. This is a passage of immense power. Grasp this message, and your life will never be the same again. Why so? One of the key thoughts in the works of Karl Barth, perhaps the greatest theologian of the twentieth century, is that alienation was the basic dysfunction of humanity.2 The true calling of all Christians is to be the ones who, in Christ, become the reconcilers of humanity, just as God, in Christ, reconciled the world.
Every day we see this alienation of humanity working itself out. We have estranged relationships in our families, tension at work, disagreements with colleagues on contracts or negotiations, disputes between people, political animosity, and political antipathies between nations. The list of dysfunctional behavior goes on, and our task is to bring the good news of reconciliation to each of these fractious situations. Christ makes his reconciling appeal through us, and we become involved in this drawing together and reconciling of all those many situations where people are divided.
Our workplaces are no different. They reflect the tensions of living alienated from God. And we are the ones who have the privilege, in the contact we have with people around us, to be his spokespeople for conflict resolution. It is fundamental to all callings. In worship we gain the strength and the motivation to continue being the ones who help patch things up, untangle the knots of prejudice, and counter the negative self-images that people are forced into. In these ways, we who are changed through worship collectively can change the world.
To carry the presence of Christ is a huge privilege, and often it seems confined to people of such obviously saintly qualities as to make most of us feel marginalized. “I am no Mother Teresa,” a friend told me knowingly. Of that fact I was well aware. Several parts of his life were not running smoothly together. But he wanted to be recognized as a person who carried the presence of God with him.
Tattoos almost always tell a story. Often, they commemorate something meaningful, and a person with a tattoo wants to be able to show it off. Saint Paul wrote, “I bear on my body the marks of Jesus” (Galatians 6:17). Figuratively, he carries Christ’s tattoos, and they are there for all to see—a living memory. We, too, carry Christ’s presence in the world today as if it were a tat.
The more we worship him, the more Christlike we become. And it was Christ who “did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant” (Philippians 2:6–7). He made humility his hallmark. If we are to carry his presence, the tattoo we bear will be humility.
Worship is ultimately the key to our callings: the place where much of what is hidden from our understanding is unlocked. Worship is the place where we receive wisdom and revelation, where our eyes are enlightened to know the hope to which God has called us (Ephesians 1:17–18). It opens our hearts and minds to new possibilities and fresh challenges. It quickens our conscience. It is thus where our callings start, are strengthened, and are sustained. We cannot stay the course of our callings without it. It is both the entry point into a new way of living for God and an exit from the encircling pressures of life around us, which can draw us away from or dilute our first love of God.
The Holy Spirit leads us into worship as the ultimate goal of our lives. Worship is a whole-of-life experience and an attitude of the heart. It is the alignment of our hopes and desires with those God has for us. The more aligned our wills are with his will, the more effective our lives become. The more intimate we are prepared to be, the more we will find worship opening up our closed lives. In worship, we lay down our crowns and ambitions, we escape our self-centeredness and self-indulgences, and we find our perspectives restored in the light of his love.
Worship is to calling what the air is to breathing: life-giving, essential, impossible to survive without. Without worship the experienced life of Christ is dormant within us, and his Spirit is grieved.
True worship celebrates our callings. We are drawn into the greatest privilege for a human being: to worship the living God. The book of Revelation ends with the invitation, “Let the one who is thirsty come; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of life” (Revelation 22:17). This is what sustains, refreshes, nourishes, and strengthens us—this water of life, the only true elixir that will give us eternal worshipping life.
Worship is the most important thing I can do on this earth. The great opening sentence of the Bible—“In the beginning God . . .” (Genesis 1:1)—captures this starting point for all worship. It was his initiative. I could not worship him unless he had first put that desire into my heart by allowing his Son to change my life. It is a fundamental tenet of my life that trust in Jesus Christ changes everything. And the exciting part is that worship is the way in which, through this extraordinary two-way street of encounter, we are able to commune with God himself. What greater calling could there be on our lives?
But perhaps the greatest truth is that we can worship him wherever we are. We do not need to go to some special place. The Samaritan woman who met Jesus at the well (John 4) was told that no longer would believers have to worship in a particular place—Jerusalem—or in a particular way, or at a particular time. Instead we would worship “in the Spirit and in truth” (v. 24). A whole new world opened up. We can meet God anywhere at any time, enabled by his Spirit, even at work! But who is this Spirit who is the power behind the call to worship?